You always ask that. Why. Like there's an answer for everything. Not everybody has your life, you know, or your family. In your life, things happen for reasons. People make sense. But that's not my life. Nobody in my life makes sense.

It’s just … everything. There are too many people. And I don’t fit in. I don’t know how to be. Nothing that I’m good at is the sort of thing that matters there. Being smart doesn’t matter—and being good with words. And when those things do matter, it’s only because people want something from me. Not because they want me.

I'm sorry about yesterday," she said. He hung on to his straps and shrugged. "Yesterday happens.

Then Park reached up and wrapped one of her red curls around his honey finger. "Back to missing you," he said, letting it go.

You can park your snark at the gate, Omaha.

He tried to remember how this happened – how she went from someone he’d never met to the only one who mattered.

Eleanor had never thought about killing herself – ever – but she thought a lot about stopping. Just running until she couldn’t run anymore. Jumping from something so high that she’d never hit the bottom.